


Kings of New York

by tinyarmedtrex, Xander_The_Undead



Category: IT (2017), IT (2019), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1800s AU, Bill as Davey, Eddie as Spot, M/M, Reddie, Richie as Jack, newsies au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xander_The_Undead/pseuds/Xander_The_Undead
Summary: “You guys just passing by or are you looking to break into the glamorous career of paper pushing?” Richie asked.“The second.” Bill stated and Richie nodded, his smile becoming wider.“Well then you’re lucky your brother has that face.” He took his arm from Bill’s shoulder and reached over to poke at the round cheeks on Georgie’s face, earning him a swat from Bill. “I mean dear god, you show em’ that mug and people will be begging to buy papers from him. How old are you kid?”“I’m almost twelve.”“No, no.” Richie shook his head quickly, steering them back towards the printing place, excited about new blood. “You gotta say you’re like nine or something. Tugs on the heart strings more when you’re real little and on the street. Also, try smearing a little dirt on your cheeks before you head out. It really helps.”A newsies AU





	1. Chapter 1

New York City.

The Empire City.

The Modern Gomorrah.

A lot of fancy names for a dirty place that let its children sleep on the streets while the elite walked around in their furs and silks, eating what they pleased while drinking champagne. If one could find work, they were lucky, especially if they were an immigrant, and that was almost everyone who’s great-great grandpappy hadn’t been born in this hell.

The smell of fresh bread from the bakery across the street came wafting up through the open window. Richie closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his stomach grumbled. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was just starting to go from dark to a lighter blue, Richie reaching up above his head and stretching, his joints stiff and popping loudly from sleeping on the board the home called a bed. Soon the room would be a flurry of activity, all the boys getting ready to go to work, so Richie took this time of silence for himself. 

When the sky had started to be tinted pink, Richie reached under his bed for his bifocals, slipping the round wire frames on his face and around his ears as he tucked his auburn curls behind his ear. He let himself have one more second of quiet before pushing up from his bed and cupping his hands around his mouth. “Alright, you worms! We got papers to sell and people to guilt! Let’s get up, up, up!”

Within minutes the once quiet room exploded, dirt covered boys of all ages scrambling around as they tried to get ready for another day out on the streets to sell their papers. Richie scratches at his bare stomach as he made his way to the sinks, tugging up his pants that had started to slip down his hips, he’d get his suspenders in a minute. He stole a dollop of shaving cream from one of the other boy’s hands, grinning when the boy tried to swat at him for it and started smearing it on his face. For being close to twenty, he barely had any fuzz on his face, but his long limbs, tall stature and broad shoulders proved he was more a man than a boy now and he scraped the razor blade over his cheeks anyway.

He splashed freezing water over his face when he was finished, goosebumps erupting down his arms at the temperature, and then walked back to his bed with his face dripping. He pulled on his shirt from the day before and tucked the shirt into his pants, then attached his suspenders to his pants, snapping them against his chest lightly with a whistle. Quickly he threw his red corduroy vest on over his shirt, grinning over at his buddy Stan when he grabbed the small red scarf and tied it around his neck.

“You look ridiculous with that.”

“You’re just jealous you aren’t as handsome as me, Staniel.” Richie shoved his feet into his too small shoes when Stan snorted, the brunet buttoning his shirt up perfectly so that he looked like he belonged in one of those offices. “Ya know, people ain’t going to buy things from you if you don’t look poor and pathetic.”

Stan raised an eyebrow and he smoothed down his shirt, barely a wrinkle in the fabric because he had held it over the kettle last night. “So you say, but my sales don’t lie, Tozier.”

It was true. Stanley Uris had the highest sales rate among all the Manhattan boys next to Richie and Richie still has no idea how he did it when he went out looking like he worked for the books. Richie grinned as he danced his way over to his friend, reaching out to quickly muss up those perfectly coiffed curls which he received a harsh smack on the arm for.

The poor old building’s stairs creaked ominously as a herd of boys ran down them, all yelling and talking excitedly as they all poured out into the waking city. Richie ran ahead, stealing one of the other boy’s hat and throwing it on his own head, laughing and running down the street as the kid chased him to take it back. He was out of breath and panting by the time they reached the tall dark iron gates, reaching out to shake them obnoxiously even though he knew they wouldn’t open until seven.

The boys hung off the gates as if they were some kind of species of monkey in the zoo, laughing and swinging at each other as they all waited for the time when they could buy their papers. Richie reaches into his pocket, feeling the cool copper coins against his fingers as his bits all lined up behind him, Stan right as his back and making sure they didn’t get too rowdy.

It was two minutes till opening time when Richie heard a familiar laugh, turning around in just enough time to watch Bower’s grab on of his smaller boys by the back of the shirt and haul him out of line. The small boy, Conner, fell to the ground with a cry and Richie felt anger shoot through him, taking a step towards Bowers and his group of fools who were now trying to bully Richie’s guys out of line.

“What the hell, Bowers? You ain’t allowed to cut.”

Richie grit his teeth when he heard Bowers scoff, turning towards him with a glare as he moved closer to Richie. When he stepped into Richie’s space, he felt Stan’s hand go to his shoulder and pull him back a bit.

“Come on, Richie.”

Bowers’ blue eyes moved to look at Stan and Richie felt his blood boil when he saw that nasty smirk come to those pale chapped lips. Richie held his breath when Bowers leaned closer, almost touching Richie’s shoulder so he could look Stan in the eye.

“Yeah, why don’t you listen to your little friend, four eyes?” He felt Stan’s grip tighten and Richie did his best to stay calm. “After all, people like him are good at-“

Richie didn’t even think about it, turning his head sharply so that it knocked against Bowers roughly, causing both boys to stumble away from each other. Richie hissed as he held the side of his head where his glasses had dug in from the hit, but grinned when he noticed Bowers doing the same.

“Why don’t you just go back to the cesspool you crawled outta’, huh? No one’s going to buy from guys who smell almost as bad as Brooklyn.”

Richie grinned when the crowd erupted in laughter, puffing out his chest a little as Bowers and his gang glared at them. He turned to give his boys a bow, only barely missing Stan’s shout in warning as Hocksetter’s fist came flying at the side of his head. Richie ducked and ran to the side, turning around to see Bowers order Criss and Huggins to go for him, the two rushing at him as Richie turned to start running.

He tore down the street, his long legs carrying him faster than either of the other two and grinned as he turned down on of the alleys. Bowers’ boys may have muscle, but Richie knew the streets of Manhattan like the back of his hand as he scrambled up the wooden fence at the end of the alley and jumped.

He heard Criss and Huggins yell at him as they tried to do the same, but he was already a good twenty feet ahead by then, ducking down another alley. Richie weaves in and around different buildings, making sure to take a few crazy turns just in case those numbskulls were able to find him. He cut down 19th Street, swiping an apple from grocers stand outside, pocketing it for later before ducking down one more alleyway. He leaned against the cool brick as he caught his breath, listening for any noise of the other boys and when he heard none he grinned.

After work today, he deserved for Stan to take him to EARS and buy him a damned drink! With the dream of a cold frothy ale in mind, he swung around the corner into the busy street and started making his way back to his boys.

“Too easy.” Richie whistled loudly.

“Oh yeah?”

He gasped when he felt his collar yanked back, his body slammed into the wall of a building and he flinched as the rough brick dug into his scalp when Bowers pushed his head roughly against it. He growled a little when he heard Hocksetter laugh behind Bowers and he tried to push against the hold the older boy had on him, but it was no use. Richie grit his teeth when he saw Bowers pull his fist back, closing his eyes shut tightly in anticipation for the painful punch he knew was coming.

“Hey! You boys!”

All three of them turned to see a police officer pointing at them, face stern while two other boys stood next to him. One tall with auburn hair that glowed in the sun, the other much younger with blond hair who kept clinging to the red head.

The police officer turned to the red head. “Those are the two? You’re sure?”

The older boy nodded. “Yep. That’s them. Those are the ones that stole my mom’s purse, I wouldn’t forget their faces.”

“What the hell?” Richie heard Bowers mutter as he let go of Richie, backing away as the police officers advanced.

“Come here you two.”

Hocksetter and Bowers exchanged a look before they took off down the street, Richie watching in amazement as the cop took off after them yelling. He turned to look at the red headed boy when he walked over and offered his hand, Richie took it and pulled himself up.

“They stole your ma’s purse?”

“Huh?” The redhead looked confused for a minute, then shook his head. “Oh, no. I lied.”

Richie started at the other boy for a minute before a loud sharp laugh burst out from him. He doubled over in hysterics for a bit, barely able to stop even when the look the red head was giving him made him want to laugh all over again. When he was able to calm down, he stood up straight and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Sorry. That was just priceless. The look on those idiots faces? Damn I wish I had a photograph.” He saw the ghost of a smile of the redhead’s lips and he looked down to see a pair of bright blue eyes looking up at him from the goddamn cutest little face. “Well, bless my soul. We got a tiny cherub here? What’s your name, scamp?”

The little blond boy grinned, one of his front teeth missing and Richie wished he could be that cute. He’d sell so much more.

“My name’s Georgie.” Georgie then pulled on the redhead’s sleeve. “And this is my brother Bill, we saw you stand up to them at the gates.”

Richie raised an eyebrow at the boy named Bill but couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he looked back down at Georgie. “Yeah? You have a last name that goes with those names?”

“Denbrough!” Georgie supplied happily and Richie had to chuckle.

“Denbrough, huh? That Irish?” Richie could tell the by way Bill stiffened, a frown coming to his face and he moved to stand a little more in front of his little brother that  had hit the nail on the head.

“And if it is?”

Richie gave a halfhearted shrug.

“Ain’t no skin off my nose. Love the Irish, had a girl from there a bit back. As long as you can sell papers I don’t care where you come from. My best friend is Jewish and that’s fine.” Richie smiled again, “You guys just passing by or are you looking into the glamorous career of paper pushing?”

“The second.” Bill stated and Richie nodded, his smile becoming wider.

“Well, then you’re lucky your brother has that face.” He took his arm from Bill’s shoulder and reached over to poke at one of round cheeks on Georgie’s face, earning him a swat from Bill. “I mean dear god, you show em’ that mug and people will be begging to buy papers from him. How old are you kid?”

“I’m almost twelve.”

“No, no.” Richie shook his head quickly, steering them back towards the printing place, excited about new blood. “You gotta say you’re like nine or something. Tugs on the heart strings more when you’re real little and on the street. Also, try smearing a little dirt on your cheeks before you head out. It really helps.”

Georgie looked excited while Bill looked a little skeptical. “So, it’s all a big scheme?”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who lied to a cop?”

When Bill’s cheeks turned red, Richie couldn’t help but grin widely. “And no, it’s not a scheme. Just think of it like, you need to get the news out there and if you gotta embellish the truth a little then it’s for the good of mankind, right?”

Bill looked doubtful but didn’t comment on it as Georgie started talking excitedly about having his first job.

  
  


**Eddie**

Eddie looked out at the view, taking a long breath of clean air. It wasn’t often that he got to see the world like this, the sun setting over his home. He loved it, loved his city- even if it didn’t always love him back. He could forget about that for now though as he leaned against a beam and stared over the river. 

 

“You’re gonna break an arm one day, climbin’ up there.” He heard someone call from below. 

 

He looked down, seeing his best friend waving at him. Eddie smiled then scurried down, careful to avoid the weak beam he’d found weeks ago that nearly pitched him into the water. “Nah Mike, I’m a rat remember? Brooklyn is full of ‘em I hear.” He joked, earning a chuckle from his friend. 

 

“It’s still damned dangerous.” Mike said, looking up at where Eddie had been. 

 

“Everything is dangerous, you just gotta pick what’s worth it.” He threw one last look at the bridge, still shiny and new even though it’d been open over ten years. He loved that bridge, how alive he felt when he was up there, how free. It was his favorite place and Mike was the only one who knew about it. When he went there it meant he wanted to be alone, which meant that Mike had a reason for coming. 

 

He forced himself back to reality, looking at Mike. “What’s wrong?” It was evening, papers had been sold and they were supposed to be free for the evening. He’d been planning to try and scare up some dinner and maybe join a poker game he knew was happening down the block.  

 

“There’s talk of another price hike on the pap’s, everyone wants to meet and you gotta be there, they want to hear from you.” 

 

Eddie shook his head, falling in line alongside his friend as they started to walk. “Another?” They’d raised the prices a few months back, from 40 cents to 50 per paper and it caused riots. Eddie had lead some of them, his boys flowing onto the streets and doing what they did best- raised hell. It hadn’t mattered. No one cared when only Brooklyn rioted, they were just an annoying, small borough- especially as far as the cops were concerned. 

 

Being a newsie was hard, you had to buy the papers with your own dime and whatever you didn’t sell you had to eat.  Every day was a gamble- did you go big and hope you’d sell a hundred, possibly losing any profit because you only sold 50? Or did you play it safe and only buy 30 and risk losing out on enough money to buy two meals? The mental math never got easier, especially as you grew older and weren’t as cute or pitiful as the new sellers. The fact that the big wigs in the offices could raise prices on a whim made it even harder, taking any security that the boys had. 

 

Eddie rubbed his arm, where his shirt hid a jagged scar. A reminder of what happened when they rioted last time. He had been left on the street, lucky that his boys found him and helped him. Cops didn’t care about them, no one did. He owed it to his boys, they looked up to him and expected him to keep them safe. He wasn’t sure how he’d fallen into the role except that he’d been at it longer than most. He’d run away from his mom and her overbearing ways when he was six, falling easily into paper selling as a way to make money. He was small and had the best sad eyes in the business. Even now, at 20, he could still pass for much younger and that gave him an edge.

 

“What’re we gonna do, Eddie?” Mike asked. “Everyone is already on edge.”

 

He nodded. Mike was right. The last price hike already meant that everyone was running lean, sharing beds and stretching food. 

 

“I dunno Mike, we’ll manage, like always. Nuthin’ is gonna change, not for us.” 

 

Mike nodded, acknowledging that it was just them. It was always just them. “Brooklyn sticks together though, right?” He put up his hand and Eddie slapped it, nodding.

 

“Always.” 

 

That was how it’d always been, Brooklyn against the others. Eddie knew that if they wanted to make real change they’d have to get everyone together, all the newsies working as a team. But that would never happen because it would mean that Eddie and his crew would have to work with the others. As a rule, Brooklyn didn't interact with any other newsies. They operated on their own, happy on their side of the bridge. Eddie didn’t trust the others to follow through on their words, especially that Richie Tozier, the  leader from Manhattan

 

And there was no one that bugged him more than Richie, the snide loudmouth who had never learned when to shut his mouth, even when it earned him beatings. He frowned, even thinking about the idea of working with Richie.

 

Finally they reached the meeting area, everyone was already there, turning to him as he and Mike walked in. 

 

“What are we gonna do Eddie?” 

 

“Are they really gonna raise prices?”

 

“They’re already squeezing us!” 

 

“I can’t afford paps as it is!” 

 

Eddie heard all it as he walked in, stepping onto the soap box that they’d set out for him. “I heard, I know.” He started, trying to project so everyone could hear. “I heard what them guys is thinking of doing.” He paused, making sure everyone was listening. “We’ve been squeezed before and we managed. But this is too much!” 

 

The crowd cheered and Eddie continued. “We’ll fix this, they can’t do this. They need us!” 

Another cheer. “Who else is gonna sell paps? We’re the best in the business!”

 

“Brooklyn best!” Someone shouted, raising another round of cheers. 

 

Eddie nodded, “That’s right.” He snapped his suspenders. “We’ll fix this, we’re the newsies!” The crowd roared and he smiled, happy to see his crew roused. “Now go ta bed ya’ losers!” He yelled playfully. They jeered at him but then laughed, dispersing good naturedly. 

 

He glanced at Mike, grabbing his broad shoulders and using them to jump down. “I think that went alright.” 

 

“You don’t know what the hell you’re doing.” Someone said. Eddie glanced over, seeing someone standing in front of him, arms crossed. 

 

“I know exactly what I’m doing.” Eddie replied, crossing his own arms. He searched his mind for this guy’s name. He was newer, been selling for about two months but Eddie knew that he did alright, not a top seller but not someone he had to worry about. He hadn’t talked to the boy before now- he looked a bit younger than Eddie and Mike, which made him wonder what brought him to this business. People usually started early, it was rare to have older teens start selling unless something changed at home. 

 

A snort. “Ya talked but didn’t say shit.” He sneered. Eddie saw some red hair fall from the cap and narrowed his eyes, something was up with this guy. The way he stood, how he spoke like he was lowering his voice. 

 

Eddie studied him for a second then said, “Seemed like everyone else was satisfied.” 

 

“That’s because they’re loyal fools.” 

 

Davey! Davey Marsh. Eddie suddenly remembered the name. “Listen Davey, you’re new here.” Eddie put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and he wrenched back, taking a step back. “But trust me, I’ve got this under control.”

 

Davey huffed, shaking his head. “I’d like ta believe that, I really would but somethin’ tells me things are about to get a lot worse.” With that he turned and Eddie watched him go, shaking his own head. 

 

“Everyone else trusts you Eddie.” Mike said, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“It’s fine, what’s a gang without some dissenters.” Eddie watched until Davey disappeared and then turned to Mike, who raised an eyebrow. 

 

“What’s rollin’ through that noggin Kaspbrak?”

 

“I think there’s more to Davey than meets the eye.” He put an arm around Mike, leading him away. “Buy me a coffee and I’ll explain.”

 

Mike shook his head but let Eddie lead him away. They were the last to go, everyone else going home to get one last good night’s sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took his time lighting it with a match, shaking the flame out when he was done and flicking the small burnt piece of wood off to the side.
> 
> He took a puff.
> 
> Then another.
> 
> “Eddie Kaspbrak is the leader of the Brooklyn newsies and he’s a real piece of work. Boy may have the face of an angel, but his temper is just downright awful. I tried talking with him awhile back when they raised the prices before, but he had this attitude that just rubbed me the wrong way.” He took another drag off his cigarette then snorted. “Since then the Manhattan boys refuse to associate with the Brooklyn ones and vice versa.”
> 
> Bill frowned. “So, the whole reason we hate them is cause you two can’t figure out how ta be civil?”
> 
> Richie narrowed his eyes at his new friend, lifting his foot so he could stub his cigarette out of the heel of his shoe. “I’m always civil, what do you know?”

 

 

 

Richie grinned as he watched Bill try to sell papers, the boy may be good-looking, but he had no idea how to use his looks because he lacked the sort of charm needed.

Little Georgie on the other hand.

 _That_ boy could sell water as wine he was that good. he quickly learned how to use those big blue eyes to turn any woman into a puddle. Richie moved over to Bill, wrapping an arm around his shoulders when the boy struck out again and clicked his tongue at him.

“You ain’t doing it right, Big Bill.”

He tried not to laugh when Bill shot him a glare and pushed Richie’s arm off his shoulder.

“Yeah?” Bill asked, throwing the paper in his hands back down onto the pile. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing differently, huh?”

“You have to persuade them into buying it.” Richie tried to explain, his own papers gone and sold about an hour ago. “You can’t just tell’ em to buy it. That only works if you’s a beautiful girl, which you ain’t.”

Bill huffed and tapped his pile of leftover papers, at least ten left if Richie was guessing right and he watched as Bill whistles to Georgie. The littlest Denbrough came running over, arms empty of papers, grinning when Bill picked up his pile and put them in Georgie’s arms.

“You can have my papers, go make us some money.”

“Yeah?” Georgie asked excitedly, his body already buzzing as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

Bill gave a nod. “Yeah. Go on, just meet me back at home for dinner.”

Richie and Bill watched Georgie take off down the street, yelling the headlines from the top of his lungs as he went. Richie chuckled and elbowed Bill gently in the arm, jerking his head for Bill to follow him.

“Let’s go somewhere fun.”

Richie led them through the winding streets of Manhattan, grinning when Bill noticed they were going to the seedier parts of the borough. He had to give the guy credit though, he didn’t complain and just kept talking as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.

“I heard t-they might raise the prices on papers.” Bill turned the conversation so quickly Richie glanced at him with a small frown.

“Where you hear that from?”

Bill gave a small shrug as if he didn’t care, but Richie could tell from the way his shoulders were stiff that it actually worried the other boy. “A guy my dad works with, his son is a newsie over in Brooklyn.”

“Aw geeze.” Richie groaned, rolling his eyes. “Those Brooklyn guys will belly ache about anything they hear, true or not.”

They had made it to the place Richie had been leading them, Bill raising an eyebrow at the large abandoned warehouse but Richie just grinned. They moved towards an old rusty door that was barely hanging on and Richie slipped in without a problem, turning to make sure Bill followed. They moved through the empty halls, the noise that had been muffled before grew louder as the made it to the large open room, men of all classes and ages cheering for those inside the huge boxing ring.

Richie laughed at Bill’s stunned expression, winding him through a few people so they could get closer to the action. Richie let out a yell, his excitement growing when one of the men used a deadly right hook and sent the other man falling to the ground.

Bill stared wide eyed as they dragged the man’s limp body out of the ring, the next fighter getting ready to go up against the champion.

The bell rang and the fight started.

“Why do you hate Brooklyn so much?” Richie heard Bill ask over the noise and Richie didn’t respond for a minute before shrugging his shoulders.

“Cause they follow that clown Kaspbrak around like he hung the stars and moon.”

Richie sighed when he noticed Bill put his full attention on him instead of the match. He turned to look at the guy with a small frown

“Who’s Kaspbrak?”

“Ugh.” Richie groaned. “Do we really have to go into this? Don’t you just wanna watch the match?”

Bill glanced back at the men fighting, blood and sweat splattering around the ring, before turning back to Richie and shaking his head. “No, I’d rather hear about K-Kaspbrak.”

“Fine.” Richie groused, motioning that they should move away from the crowd so they could have an actual conversation and led Bill towards the dirty walls of the old factory where it wasn’t so loud. Richie leaned back against one of the walls, pulling out his handkerchief of cigarettes and plucking one out.

He took his time lighting it with a match, shaking the flame out when he was done and flicking the small burnt piece of wood off to the side.

He took a puff.

Then another.

“Eddie Kaspbrak is the leader of the Brooklyn newsies and he’s a real piece of work. Boy may have the face of an angel, but his temper is just downright awful. I tried talking with him awhile back when they raised the prices before, but he had this attitude that just rubbed me the wrong way.” He took another drag off his cigarette then snorted. “Since then the Manhattan boys refuse to associate with the Brooklyn ones and vice versa.”

Bill frowned. “So, the whole reason we hate them is cause you two can’t figure out how ta be civil?”

Richie narrowed his eyes at his new friend, lifting his foot so he could stub his cigarette out of the heel of his shoe. “I’m always civil, what do you know?”

He huffed when Bill just rolled his eyes and then shook his head.

“But that’s the reason we don’t talk to the Brooklyn boys. Because they don’t know anything about good leadership.”

“And y-you do?”

“You watch yourself, Denbrough.” Richie hissed and he liked that Bill took his empty threat with a grain of salt, the other red headed boy sighing.

“Fine. We don’t like the Brooklyn boys, but what about the rumor of the prices going up?”

Richie shook his head and watched the fight from afar, leaning his head back against the wall with a small sigh.

“It won’t happen.”

“H-How do you know?”

Richie was quiet, suddenly feeling sluggish and sleepy, his thoughts drifting into less happy places and he remembered the face of his sick mother before she passed.

_God wouldn’t give us more than we can handle, Richie._

“Because if there is a God, he wouldn’t be that cruel.”

The mood lifted slightly on their way home, Bill and him laughing as they shoved each other back and forth down the street. It wasn’t until they heard the sharp yell of the fire sirens that they realized something was wrong, turning the street corner to find chaos had erupted onto it.

A trolley laid on its side in a blaze of flames, the burning oil and gas stinging Richie’s nose as they watched. Mobs of angry people yelled and screamed around the fire as two trolley conductors ran away, some of the mob chasing after them and grabbed one by the back of his uniform.

Richie watched wide eyed as the started to beat the man.

“Trolley s-strike.” Bill whispered and Richie nodded in agreement.

Richie continued to watch them beat the man, wondering if they were going to kill him when he felt Bill tug on his arm.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Richie turned back to look at the insanity one last time before nodding and moving to follow Bill.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll get a decent headline.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Richie tugged at his red kerchief, the morning sun already making him sweat as he made his way towards the world building. When he made it into the square he looked up to the building’s chalkboard and grinned when he saw the headline.

 

**BLOODY BEATINGS IN TROLLEY STRIKE!**

      

“Ah, it’s going to be a good day.” He sighed softly, then frowned when he noticed his boys gathered around the gate yelling angrily. Richie quickly moved in, elbowing his way to the front of the line listening to the shouts of outrage.

“They jacked up the price! Ten cents a hunnerd -- I can eat two days on ten cents!”

“This’ll bust me! I’m barely making a livin’ as it is!”

“I’ll be back to sleepin’ on the streets!”

Richie scowled as he made his way up towards the window, Mr. Weslizer, the man who sold them their papers, sat there with a smug grin on his face and Richie tried not to let the nervous feeling in his stomach grow. He fished for his fifty cents in his pocket, feeling a little calmer at the feel of the cool metal on his fingertips.

“Alright, pipe down!” He yelled, the boys instantly quieting as they turned to look at him. “Don't you see it's a gag?  Just Weasel bein' a weasel. Joke's over, Wease.”

 He placed his fifty cents on the ledge of the window and grinned. “Gimme a hundred.”

Weslizer grinned and slid Richie’s fifty right back to him. “It’s sixty for a hundred, buddy.”

Richie frowned, his stomach feeling like there was lead inside it as his boys starting muttering in a panic again.

“I ain’t paying sixty.”

“Then you get no papers.” Weslizer replied easily. “Now move outta the way so others can get through!”

Richie felt anger burn through him and he kicked out at the wall below the window, giving Weslizer his ugliest scowl. “Yeah, I’ll move! Move on over to the next newspaper company!”

Suddenly he felt a body at his back, hand gripping his elbow and Stan’s urgent but calm voice in his ear. “It’s the same way all around New York, Richie.”

He turned to look into his friend’s green eyes. “You gotta be kidding me.”

He heard Weslizer laugh, his fat red face mocking them with that shark like smile and Richie wanted nothing more than to beat it off him. He shrugged off Stan’s hold and stepped towards the window again, his voice low and angry.

“Why the jack up, Weasel?”

“Why not? Got a problem with it, go ask the men in charge.” Weslizer answered back smugly and he rang his bell loudly a couple of times. “Now if you ain’t buying I suggest you leave before I have you escorted outta here.”

“It stinks here anyway!” Richie yelled at him, turning with a huff to stomp back out through the gates, his boys following close behind. He was trying not to panic, but with the shouting and complaining as the boys surrounded him looking for answers, Richie felt something like a hysterical laugh start to bubble up. Richie pushed it down and tried to focus, glancing around as his boys looked to him for answers.

He spotted Stan, Bill and Georgie off to the side and suddenly felt a boost of confidence.

He wouldn’t let it end like this, not when he had his friends and boys to look out for.

“Shut your mouths!” He yelled and it became silent again. “We ain’t paying sixty to push their papers. Let me think…”

Richie bit his bottom lip as he thought through the situation. He thought about writing the heads of the newspapers, but knew they only cared about lining their own pockets and didn’t think twice about the poor people they were messing up. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging roughly on his curls when his eyes moved up to the headline on the chalkboard and suddenly it dawned on him what they needed to do.

“We strike.” He whispered and he could see the look of fear set in over Stan’s face, his friend rushing over to him and shaking his head.

“We can’t strike! Are you insane! We aren’t a union!”

“Yeah!” Richie yelled. “We are a union! Good stuff, Stan! Keep going!”

“I said we aren’t!” Stan yelled back, growling when Richie moved forward through the square and all the boys followed him. “There's not enough of us! Maybe if we got every Newsie in New York, but-“

“T-Then that’s what we’ll do.” Richie and Stan turned to look at Bill, determination set in those light blue eyes with his hands on his hips. “Yeah, we organize. We’ll get all the New York Newsies to join us!”

Richie pumped his fist in the air. “That’s right! That’s what we’ll do!”

Stan looked like he was ready to faint and also kill someone. “You saw what happened to the trolley workers!”

“Amazing idea, Stan!” Richie’s snapped his fingers with a grin, turning to face the boys with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Any newsies found selling during the strike, YOU BEAT ‘EM!”

“No!” Stan yelled, but was drowned out by the chorus of cheers from the other boys. “Stop and think about this! This isn’t something we should just rush into!”

The boys all cheered loudly, and Richie ran up on the steps of a stoop, holding up both hands for everyone to be silent. A hush fell over the crowd again and they all watched him avidly.

“Stan is right!” He called out loudly, not wanting to laugh at the bewildered expression on his friend’s face from being agreed with. “We gotta think this through! The heads of these newspapers and all them other rich geezers, they run this city. Do we really think a buncha streetrats like us would have a chance against people like them?”

There was murmuring in the crowd, each boy looking at the other with defeated expressions because they knew what Richie was saying was true. Richie clapped his hands loudly to get their attention again, all eyes on him.

“The choice has gotta be yours!” He yelled, looking as many of them in the eye as he could, the rush of trying to lead in something this large making his body feel like it had boundless energy. “Are we gonna just take what they give us?  Or do we strike?!”

No one said anything until a small fist from the middle of the crowd thrust up in the air.

“STRIKE!” Georgie yelled loudly. “STRIKE!”

The small boy started to chant, joined in by his brother and soon the entire group started to chant along with them. Richie grinned widely as their voices started to carry, people looking their way as a bunch of dirty boys started to march back towards the gates of the World Building. They continued to chant loudly, and Richie silently asked for Bill’s help, the other boy leaning down to give him a boost and hoisted Richie up so he could climb the gate and onto the large headline chalkboard.

He ignored the yells from the workers below, using his sleeve to erase part of their neat headline letters before picking up the chalk and scrawling his own headline for everyone to see.

 

**_NEWSIES STRIKE_ **

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You made the promises, now you have to own up.”

Richie glared at Stan as Bill and them stood on the docks that went over the East River. Boys from all over Brooklyn were yelling and laughing as they jumped into swim in the murky water on this hot afternoon and Richie wished he was anywhere else.

“We just had to do Brooklyn first…” He muttered as he caught sight of the blond boy they had come to talk to, swimming and splashing in the water with a smile on his face. “Let’s get this over with.”

Richie’s cringed when one of Kaspbrak’s boys made their presence known, shouting out loud so everyone in Brooklyn could hear.

“EY! EDDIE! MANHATTAN GARBAGE IS HERE!”

All heads turned to look at them and out of the green water of the East River came Edward Kaspbrak. All three Manhattan boys watched as the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies pulled himself up onto the dock, the corded muscles in his arms working and it made Richie bite back a growl.

No poor boy had any right looking that healthy.

The guy reached down to grab his cap, his wet white undershorts almost translucent in the sunlight, and stood up to slick back blade curls before placing the hat on over them.

Eddie’s upper lip curled as he saw who was on his pier. Richie Tozier. The king of the Manhattan scum.

“Thought I smelled something rotten.”

Richie felt an insult on the top of his tongue, just being in the vicinity of the other made something in Richie run hot. He must have looked ready because he felt an elbow in his side and turned glare at Bill before sighing and look back over at Kaspbrak “You know why I’m here.”

He watched the way Eddie regarded him thoughtfully for far too long and he was ready to walk away when the other boy spoke.

“Sell me your story, Tozier.”

Richie hated that he had to follow the other as he started walking, but a shove from Stan got him moving.

“So, we started a strike...but we can’t do it alone. So’s we been talking to other newsies all over the city.”

Mike appeared at Eddie’s shoulder, eager to hear what was happening. Eddie was sure that the other boys were equally interested but they were giving them a wide berth, knowing better than to interrupt.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“You’re part of the Newsies.” Richie replied to which Eddie shrugged and Richie threw up his hands. “You need to strike too!”

Eddie looked down at his nails, pretending to debate the issue. “How do I know you won’t just turn tail and run when the going gets tough?”

Richie scoffed at him, obviously insulted. “Manhattan doesn’t run. How do I know you won’t run?”

“Seems to me you need my help, best not accuse me of being yellow.” Eddie looked at Richie, enjoying how annoyed he was. His jaw was set, and he clearly wanted to yell at Eddie but knew he couldn’t.

“You idiots.” One of the boys Richie brought with him stepped forward, his curls reflecting in the sun. “This isn’t a dick measuring contest. We need you, yea, but you need us too. It needs to be us versus them, not us versus you. So put your shit aside for five minutes and shake hands.”

Eddie glanced back at Mike who shrugged.

“What’s your name?” He knew the man was close with Richie, he’d seen them together before.

“Stan Uris.”

Eddie nodded slowly.

“You outta let your man here do the talking. He’s much better at it.”  Then he spat in his hand, holding it out to Richie.

Richie rolled his eyes but spat in his own hand, reaching out to shake Eddie’s. “So, you’re in? You’ll strike?”

“Brooklyn’s in.”

Richie and his crew ended up staying for a while, all of them hashing out the details of the strike. Eddie was appalled to see how few of the details Richie had thought of- thank god he kept that Bill and Stan with him, those two knew what to do.

As they left Mike came to stand by Eddie. “You know it won’t be as easy in real life as it is on paper.”

Eddie nodded.

“Nah, but it’s worth it to protect the boys.” He glanced at his crew, thinking about how to tell them that they wouldn’t be earning any money for the foreseeable future. Some would grumble but he thought most would understand.

“You think Richie and Stan are together?” Mike asked, watching Richie push Stan into a wall.

“Why? You sweet on Richie?”

Mike scoffed. “Hell no.”

Eddie nodded, understanding. “I think Stan is a free agent. They seem more like brothers.” He didn’t miss how Mike grinned at that.

That night Eddie explained the strike to his crew. As he predicted, most were ready, riled up to do something, but some seemed nervous. Eddie dispatched some of his boys to talk to the nervous ones, wanting to make sure they didn’t break lines.

“Eddie!” Someone called to him as he walked away. He turned, seeing it was the Davey kid.

“Complaints department is closed.” He said, snapping his suspenders.

Davey shook his head. “I ain’t here to complain. You want this to work? You need more than just a bunch of dirty newsies. You need the press.”

“We’re striking against the papers, in case you weren’t listening.”

“You need the public to be sympathetic. Get your story out. I know someone who can help.”

Eddie leaned against a pole, looking at Davey.

“Why should I trust you?” Davey’s mouth twisted open, about to protest. “Don’t. I know you’re not who you say. So tell me, why should I trust you when all you’ve done is lie.”

Davey glanced around then took Eddie’s arm, tugging him to a corner. “I’m not interested.” Eddie said. “I don’t like girls.”

“Screw you.” Davey took off her cap and ruffled her shorn hair. Eddie watched her transform, instead of hunching over, looking small and nervous she became confident, looking Eddie in the eyes. Her voice changed too, becoming more feminine. “Alright you know. Am I kicked out?” She asked.

“I don’t care what’s in your pants as long as you’re with us.”

This made her smile.

Eddie wanted to know what would bring a gal into this world but figured it wasn’t any of his business. “What's your real name?” He asked.

“Bev.” She stuck out a hand and Eddie shook it.

“Nice you finally meet you. Tell me more about this newspaper fella.”

Later that night Eddie, Bev and Mike went into the city to talk to Bev’s friend.

“How do you know this guy?” Mike asked, looking up at the building. Eddie knew he expected them to be ambushed. He didn’t like this plan at all and had wanted to bring more men. Eddie refused, saying that if Bev was gonna set them up there were much easier ways than this.

“Friend of mine.” She said, rapping her knuckles against the door. It took a minute but the door opened, revealing a portly gentleman who looked surprised and then delighted. He pulled Bev close, giving her a big hug.

“You were supposed to check in last week!” He said, his hand on her cheek. “I was damned worried.”

“Got caught up.” Bev said, smiling at him. It was the first time Eddie had seen her smile. He let them catch up for a minute then coughed, reminding them that he and Mike were there.

“Oh! You brought friends. Hey boys, I’m Ben. Ben Hanscom.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak and this is Mike Hanlon.” The group shook hands and they were finally ushered inside. Eddie let Bev explain the situation, watching Ben’s expression. He seemed genuinely concerned for them.

“Well that sounds terrible. I’m not sure what I can do to help though.”

Here Bev grinned, pointing at his desk. “Write about us. Tell our story. Get the public on our side.”

He hesitated, shaking his head. “I’m new on the paper, Bev. I mostly cover run away cats and bake sales.”

“But I know you. You can do this, you have to. You’re the only one we can trust to cover it.” Ben still looked unconvinced so Eddie walked over to him, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“It’s gonna be huge Hanscom. Just think, you’ll have the scoop. The story of the year- no, decade! And you’ll be the first to cover it. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want our story to be told?”

Ben looked from Eddie to Bev then sighed. “Damn Bev, you had to go and find people as persuasive as you.” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll do it. But you need to give me interviews and access to the front lines. I want to be in it.”

“Then you’ve got it, Ben.” Eddie said, sticking his hand out. Ben shook his head ruefully then accepted it.

“Try not to get me killed. “ Ben said.

Eddie laughed. “No promises my friend, no promises.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s up?”  
> “Nothing. Stan’s jus-“  
> “Richie wanted to know why Eddie wasn’t here.”  
> Mike looked confused. “Was he supposed to be here?”  
> Stan gave a small shrug as if he didn’t care. “I didn’t think so but apparently Richie wants him to be.”  
> Mike blinked, then a knowing happy smile started to spread across his face and he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets with a nod of his head. “Oh, I see. I can send a boy to get ‘em if you want, Rich. It’s not too hard.”

Eddie 

“Stop glaring, you can’t even see him yet.” Mike said, cuffing Eddie on the shoulder. 

 

“I can smell him.” Eddie replied, curling his lip. He hated this side of the bridge. It felt wrong, dirty, and he already longed to be back in Brooklyn. 

 

“He don’t smell any worse than you.” Bev said. 

 

She’d insisted on coming along. Ben would be meeting them too. This thing was real, it was happening. Eddie had told his boys that morning. Most were willing to strike, a few took some convincing- strong words followed by threats when that wasn’t enough, but all of them agreed in the end. He hoped the same was true for Richie’s boys. 

 

“He smells like Manhattan trash.”

 

“Better than Brooklyn sewage.” Richie said, swinging down from a fire escape. Eddie was impressed, he hadn’t known that Richie could do anything quietly and he said as much. To his surprise Richie laughed, tilting his head back and exposing his Adam’s apple. 

 

“Oh, we’re gonna have a blast, you and me.” He swung an arm around Eddie that Eddie immediately shrugged off. Richie didn’t seem to notice, he was looking at Bev. Something akin to jealousy curled in Eddie but he refused to acknowledge it. 

 

“Whose the skirt?” Richie asked, looking her up and down.

 

“I’m not a skirt, I’m Bev and I’m the reason this little strike is going to make the front page.” She said, hands on her hips as she glared at him. 

 

Richie backed off, throwing his hands up.

 

 “Alright, alright, didn’t mean no offense. Never seen a gal newsie before. Come on,” He turned, addressing all of them. “Let’s get to headquarters. Stan is waiting.”

 

At Stan’s name Mike perked up, much to Eddie’s annoyance. Richie fell into step next to Bev, grilling her and Eddie slid by Mike.

 

 “You can’t fall for the Manhattan boy.” He whispered.

 

“Why not? You are.” Mike replied, not bothering to deny it. 

 

Eddie sputtered, trying to think of an argument, but Richie was turning to them, his eyes alit with excitement. “We’re really gonna pull this off, fellas. It’ll be something to write home about.” 

 

“Local boys starve to death.” Eddie said. “Yea, what a headline.”

 

“Where’s your spirit of adventure?” Richie asked, throwing an arm around him again. He put out his free arm, writing his own headline. “Newsies change the city- nah, the world!” 

 

Eddie laughed, taking longer to throw the arm off. He felt Mike watching them and stepped back. 

 

“How far is this place?” He asked.

 

“Right here.” They stopped in front of a run-down diner. All the lights were off and Eddie narrowed his eyes. 

 

“This is your headquarters? Are we recruiting mice too?”

 

“No faith, shortstack.” Richie went to the door and knocked three times. It swung open to reveal Stan and some others Eddie didn’t recognize. They were all ushered inside where Ben was waiting too. 

 

“This meeting for the newsies strike is officially in session!” Richie said, banging his hand on the table.

 

 “First order of business.” He grabbed Eddie’s hand, pulling him to the front. “Eds here has agreed to join forces with us. Say hi, Eds.”

 

“Not my name.” Eddie mumbled, hating how everyone was staring at him. He knew there was mistrust there, built up over the years of harmless pranks and cruel words. For the first time he thought about how Brooklyn looked to these boys, like they thought they were better than them or that they deserved more. 

 

“We’re here to help.” Eddie said. “The price hike affects us all and we want to strike too.” 

 

A few heads nodded. Eddie was a leader of few words- besides, he was sure that Richie had plenty. 

 

“Great intro, Eds, really riled the crowd.” Richie said, grinning at him. “Next, what do we do when someone breaks ranks? Tries to buy a pap’?” 

 

“Cut ‘em!” Someone yelled. 

 

“Dunk ‘em in the river!” Another voice called. 

 

Both of these were met with a chorus of cheers. 

Other suggestions were immediately thrown out - find them later and teach them a lesson,  show them the business end of a knife- and soon the crowd was getting out of hand. 

 

“Wanna help here?” Richie asked, looking over at Eddie. 

 

He shrugged. “These are your boys. What's the matter? Can’t contain them?” 

 

Richie gave him a condescending smile then turned back to the crowd. He whistled loudly, getting their attention. “We ain’t aiming to kill the chumps, just teach ‘em a lesson. Here’s what we’ll do. If someone buys paps’ we take them back, burn them, throw them out. If someone tries to run we catch ‘em, maybe give them a stern talking to. No violence, we’re better than those big wigs in the office and we can’t forget it.”

 

Eddie nodded along, impressed by Richie’s way of commanding the crowd. He could tell that the boys respected him. He was a better leader than Eddie had thought. 

 

“The cops though.” Richie grinned deviously. “Well, all bets are off there.” 

 

This was met with a loud cheer and Eddie sighed. Things had been going so well until then. 

 

“We can’t hurt the cops.” He said, stepping in. Everyone booed him, trying to make him leave. 

 

“Listen! Listen!” He was drowned out until Richie whistled again.

 

“We’re equal partners here! You listen to Eddie like you would me!” Richie said then he nodded, moving aside to let Eddie speak. 

 

It took him a second to recover, Richie sharing his leadership equally wasn’t something Eddie had expected. He coughed then turned back to the crowd. “I know the cops ain’t our friends but we can’t ice ‘em. We need to stay out of prison for this to work- the more of us on the streets, the stronger we are.”

 

“And what if they get in our way?” Someone called, several others yelling out in agreement. 

 

“We’re smarter than them. We can evade them- create diversions and keep outta jail. Don’t you get it? We win by numbers and cunning, not violence. We want the public on our side and if we start fights they won’t be.” He looked around. Few people looked convinced. He saw Richie’s pal Bill nodding along. Mike and Stan too, the pair standing close together. Ben was watching the whole scene, madly scribbling down notes. But the others were stone faced, obviously not willing to agree with anything he said. 

 

“Eds is right.” Richie’s arm was on him again and this time Eddie didn’t throw it off. They had to look like a team after all. 

 

“He’s a smart one and all you’s better listen. We need all the people who buy paps to care about us- otherwise they’ll buy from the scabs. That’s why Eds here invited a big business man-” He pointed to Ben, who looked shocked. “To come and tell our story.” 

 

The crowd was unconvinced so Richie added, “He’s also gonna buy us breakfast!” 

 

Everyone broke out into cheers and Ben paled, shaking his head and saying that he couldn’t. Richie ignored him, grinning at him boys. 

 

He turned to Eddie. “That’s how you win a crowd, short stuff.”

 

“With bribes?” Eddie asked, looking up at him and smiling despite himself. 

 

“Heavens no! With full stomachs.” He moved, keeping Eddie pulled close. “Come on, lets get our orders in. Generals gotta eat first after all.” 

 

Eddie let Richie lead him away, chalking the butterflies in his stomach up to the thrill of the strike and nothing else. 

 

**Richie**

 

Richie picked his teeth with the small toothpick he had nicked from on of the men who had been standing near the fruit stand when they had gone to the market early that morning. Asking vendors for their rotten fruits was something Richie had never expected to do, but now him and his boys stood outside the newspapers gates, giant basket filled with disgusting smelly produce.

 

“Kaspbrak going to show for this or what?” 

 

Richie had noticed that the Brooklyn boy’s leader had yet to show and he tried not to make it obvious that it bothered him. The plan had been they act as a group, Richie would send some of his boys down to Brooklyn and Queens while other newsies came up to help him in giving the boot to the not so loyal ones in Manhattan. Eddie had never said he specifically would be coming, only his men, but a weird part of Richie was disappointed that he didn’t see the boy arrive with the other Brooklyn newsies.

 

“Why does he have to be here?” Stan replied, gently picking through the buckets of rotten produce with a stick. “We got enough boys here to handle any non loyals.”

 

Richie frowned. “He doesn’t have to be here.”

 

Stan stopped his search of the basket and looked up at at Richie with a perfectly raised an eyebrow. “So, why are you so annoyed he isn’t then?”

 

“I’m not!” Richie yelled defensively, hunching his shoulders against Stan’s intense stare. “I was jus’ wondering.”

 

Stan pursed his lips for a moment, then turned to look at the Brooklyn crew who were horsing around and getting excited about throwing garbage. 

 

“Mike!” Stan called and gave a jerk of his head in a silent way of asking the other to come over to them when Mike looked up. “I have a question for you.”

 

Richie hated how they looked at each other. Stan had never once shown any interest in anybody before, but now a few meetings with this Brooklyn boy and suddenly his best friend was nothing but soft eyes and even softer speech. Mike made his way over, sharing a dazzling smile with Stan and nodding his head to Richie.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Nothing. Stan’s jus-“

 

“Richie wanted to know why Eddie wasn’t here.”

 

Mike looked confused. “Was he supposed to be here?”

 

Stan gave a small shrug as if he didn’t care. “I didn’t think so but apparently Richie wants him to be.”

 

Mike blinked, then a knowing happy smile started to spread across his face and he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets with a nod of his head. “Oh, I see. I can send a boy to get ‘em if you want, Rich. It’s not too hard.”

 

“No-I didn’t-“

 

“That would be wonderful, Mike.” Stan almost purred and if Richie hadn’t been so wound up that these two were being such bastards he would have thrown up. “Thank you.”

 

Before Richie could even object, Mike was jogging back over to his boys and leaning over to say something in one of their ears. Without even a reply, the boy ran off and Richie could feel a headache brewing 

 

“I hate you, Staniel.”

 

“And I you.”

 

Richie was surprised that it only took about forty minutes or so for Eddie to come walking up the sidewalk to them, the boy that had run to get him by his side. Stan blinked in surprise as well, not expecting Eddie to have hopped boroughs so quickly.

 

He didn’t even think before yelling. “How’s you get here so fast?”

 

He gulped when Eddie looked right at him and grinned, the expression doing something to Richie and making his stomach feel warm. 

 

“I’m magic, don’t ya know? Faster than a rabbit.”

 

Richie could help the smile that grew on his face as Eddie grew closer. “Smaller and cuter than one too.”

 

Eddie cheeks went red and Richie wasn’t sure if it was in embarrassment or anger, but he liked the way it looked on the boy as Eddie reached out to punch him in the shoulder. Richie winced and moved to rub at the now sore spot.

 

“Ow. Bastard.”

 

“Baby.”

 

“Alright,” Stan interjected, rolling his eyes as if he wasn’t the one constantly making goo goo eyes over Mike. “Enough of that awful excuse of flirting. The gates are about to open so we need to get ready.”

 

Sure enough, there was a small line of boys that Richie had never seen before, even some grown men stood in line waiting for the gates to open. 

 

Well, that just would not do.

 

Richie flicked his toothpick down onto the ground, scowling when those gates opened and those fools walked in as if there was nothing wrong with it. They’d show ‘em.

 

While the traitors and newbies were inside, Richie and everyone dragged the baskets out and stood in a rather long line in front of the gates, barracking anyone who walked out those gates from leaving. It didn’t take long for their targets to come out, stopping dead when they saw the group of boys standing firm.

 

Richie took a deep breath and took a step forward. 

 

“You seem to not realize that selling papers ain’t a thing right now.” He called out, watching as some of the younger traitors shrank back. “And that’s fine! Because you didn’t know me and my friends here will let you go peacefully if you drop those papers right now and walk away.”

 

The grown men of the group seemed to not take kindly to Richie, who had to be at least nine years younger than them, telling them what to do. One man in particular scowled and took a step forward.

 

“And what exactly are you going to do about it? If we want to sell papers we can.”

 

Richie remained calm, a serene smile coming to his face that made two of the boys in the group drop their papers immediately and run.

 

“We’ll just have to find out.”

 

The traitors tried to move and that’s when Richie gave the signal. He heard Eddie’s voice ring out loud and clear and soon the sky was filled with rotting produce. Richie watched in satisfaction as a tomato and peach smashed right into the guy who talked back to him’s face. 

 

It didn’t take long. More than half the group had fled after they had started chucking smelly food at them and the only ones left were the stubborn men who now reeked and were stained red.

 

“You can’t do this!” One of the men yelled. “We are just trying to work!”

 

“Oh!” Richie replied. “We can and we will! We’ll be here every morning doing this until we get what we deserve!”

 

All the newsies cheered behind him and that’s when they heard the loud whistle that everyone knew.

 

_ Police _ .

 

“Run!” 

 

The newsies scattered like birds, all flying in different directions as the police moved to grab them. Richie knew Stan would be fine, they had run from the police before, and without thinking reached out to grab Eddie’s hand as he started to run.

 

“Come on!” He called, glad that Eddie was running with him and holding his hand just as tight. “I know where to go!”

 

Richie led them down alleyways, over fences and through small tunnels, distantly impressed that Eddie kept up with it all. He pulled around one last turn, the sound of the police’s whistle faint, before he pulled the other with him into a small nook in a building that hid them if anyone gave a quick look. 

 

Richie presses his back up against the brick wall, wedging Eddie in with him, their chests pressed together and heaving from running. Both of them of them stared at each other as they caught their breath…

 

Then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

 

“Did you see the looks on ‘dere faces?” Eddie cried, leaning his back against the other wall which still left barely any room between them. “That’ll teach ‘em to think they can just take another persons’ job.”

 

“If that doesn’t work, I’m sure I could get my hands the the stuff from our boys’ water closet.” Both of them started laughing hard again at that, Eddie reaching out to shove at Richie’s shoulder even though it didn’t work because of their confined space.

 

As the laughter died down into chuckles and then into only a soft huff, both grinning at each other as they stared into each other’s eyes. Richie had never realized that Eddie Kaspbrak’s eyes weren’t just one shade of blue, they were a funny mix of the color of the sky and sea. 

 

Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

 

He had always been begrudgingly aware that Kaspbrak was attractive. Everyone knew that, but now Richie was noticing the small things about the other that made his heart beat a little too fast.

 

How he laughed, the way he would blow his bangs out of his eyes, the irritated look he got when he felt like someone was being rude.

 

Oh. 

 

Richie’s eyes widened when he realized exactly what it was that he was feeling and he took a deep breath when he realized how close their faces were exactly. Eddie seemed to notice too and Richie could have sworn his eyes glanced down to Richie’s lips for a second before looking back up at him. When Eddie licked his bottom lip Richie couldn’t stop himself as he leaned down, excitement shooting up his spine when he noticed Eddie tilt his head up.

 

“Richie!”

 

Both froze at the sound of Bill’s voice, it did not sound too far off and when Bill slid into the alleyway, Richie almost threw himself out of the nook as if he were burned. He didn’t dare look back to see Eddie’s reaction, instead focusing on Bill’s look of worry.

 

“What’s wrong, Bill?”

 

“It’s Stan!” Bill gasped. “He g-g-got caught!”

  
  


Richie stormed into the diner seeing nothing but red, all the boys looking down trodden and upset as Richie walked past them. This shouldn’t have happened! Stan was one of the best at knowing the streets on Manhattan! How would he have gotten caught?

 

“What happened?” He barked, looking around the room for answers. “Someone answer me!”

 

“It was me, Richie.”

 

Richie whirled around at the sound of that voice, eyes fixing on Mike and his rage finally hit the top. He stomped over towards Mike, not even caring when the other flinched and grabbed Mike by the collar roughly. Mike was a little taller and heavier, but Richie hauled him in close anyway and growled in his face.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Richie was being pushed away harshly in an instant but not by Mike…

 

Richie glared down at Eddie who was spouting such an ugly scowl and glaring right back as he moved in front of Mike protectively. 

 

“Do not touch him or any of my boys like that ever again you understand?” Eddie growled and Richie had to resist the urge to reach out and push him. “Or we’ll leave. Nobody goes after my group like that without hearing them explain first. Not even you, Richie.”

 

They stood there glaring at each other, Richie wishing more than anything that he could just scream at Mike, at Eddie, at everyone who had led to Stan getting caught and taken away. But that wasn’t reasonable and Richie took a deep breath, before letting it out as his shoulders sagged.

 

He refused to cry in front of his boys even if his eyes stung.

 

“What happened?” He asked again, this time softer and more gentle.

 

Eddie glanced back at Mike and Mike but his bottom lip, his face so sad and crestfallen that Richie felt a little bad for being so in his face earlier.

 

“A cop grabbed me,” He started. Everyone knew that Mike had the biggest target on his back. His skin color and committing any type of issue could be so much worse for Mike than any of them…

 

Expect maybe Stan.

 

“I was trying to get away when suddenly Stan came up and just decked the guy. He lost his grip on me and I moved away, but before Stan could get over to me...the cop grabbed him.” Richie froze when he realized there were tears in Mike’s eyes. “He told me to leave him. To run...and I did. I’m so sorry.”

 

Eddie quickly moved in to shield his friend from other’s sight, but the sound of his cries were obvious and Richie turned away from the site. He rubbed a hand over his mouth when Bill came to stand next to him.

 

“We need to get Stan out of there.”

 

“Obviously, Bill.” Richie replied, tone only slightly sarcastic. 

 

“Then let’s get him.” They both turned to look at Eddie a determined look on his face. “He’s a Newsie. Newsies gotta stick together.”

**Author's Note:**

> The start of our newsies AU! Hopefully you enjoy it (whether or not you've seen the movie/musical)


End file.
